I am disappointed that I only now learned of Andrew’s post, and that my learning of it was totally by accident, the result of activating Google alerts on my name. Though Andrew, as the title of his post indicates and as is reflected in the post itself, wrote his piece in service of “continuing the conversation,” he didn’t let me know that he had written it, and so I didn’t have a chance to converse with his thoughts until now.

However, because I remain quite interested in the issues these posts address, I want to think a bit more about them here (and I’ll send Andrew a Facebook message so he knows I have written this!). As I reread my original piece, I find myself pretty happy with what I wrote. I think I clearly raised some important concerns about how the lack of attention to the faith-based convictions that underlie Mennonite peace practices threatens to cut off those practices from their cultural and theological roots—with possible problematic consequences down the line.

So, I am also disappointed that Andrew’s response to my reflections was mainly defensive and, actually, in the end actually seems to confirm some of my concerns. In a nutshell, he reiterates the assumption I find all too common among many the peacebuilding advocates that I know and know of, namely, that the presence of fruitful present-day peace work among Mennonites is strong evidence in itself that of course this work is grounded in Mennonite theology—without responding to my main point that by not self-consciously expressing their convictions, Mennonite peacebuilders may be in danger of separating the practices from the convictions in ways that will eventually lead to a withering of the practices. Continue reading ““Peace Theology” and “Peacebuilding”: How Strong is the Connection?”→

I offer what follows as a thought experiment, an attempt to flesh out a recent late night rumination. I finished reading a fine book, Douglas Fry, Beyond War: The Human Potential for Peace. Fry, who is an anthropologist, seeks to refute the notion of “man as warrior” that assumes that human beings are innately hardwired to fight wars. Fry focuses on hunter-gatherer societies; he argues that some of these societies, presumably more revelatory of human nature, are not warriors.

I like Fry’s argument, though since I don’t know much about hunter-gatherer societies, I mostly have to take his word for it on the evidence he cites. But what he suggests fits well with other things I have read over the years. At the very end of the book he tries briefly to draw broader implications. Here he speaks of the need for a stronger, UN-type organization to help nations avoid warfare.

That suggestion made me think. It’s not that I necessarily disagree with that kind of approach—I’d like to see the peacemaking work of the UN be strengthened and more effective, as well as a stronger and more effective international law regime. But then I thought, surely the most powerful force that resists that kind of movement is the United States. If the US were committed to UN peacemaking work and international law, then we’d have a much more peaceable world. Continue reading “A simple way to world peace? Recognize America as “Beast””→

[What follows is the introductory chapter to my new book, Mennonites and “Homosexuality”: The Struggle to Become a Welcoming Church (Peace Theology Books). The book is a collection of fifteen essays, blog posts, and lectures written over the past sixteen years that traces my efforts to help encourage the Mennonite community to be more inclusive of sexual minorities. This introduction sets the context for the writings and touches on the argument of the collection as a whole. To learn more about this book, go to its website.]

This book, Mennonites and “Homosexuality”: The Struggle to be a Welcoming Church, gathers materials I have generated over the past 15 years. What the book is about, in a nutshell, a challenge to heterosexist Mennonite resistance to churches welcoming sexual minorities. These articles, lectures, and sermons were my contribution to discernment processes happening in Mennonite settings. I have only lightly edited them. There is some redundancy in the pieces, but the reiteration of elements of my arguments for inclusion seemed to me to be a way to be more clear. As well, retaining most of what I originally wrote helps provide a sense of this collection as a historical document. While the case for welcome I make in these essays remains relevant for the present, this collection also serves as an account of the struggle over these past 15 years.

It’s been an interesting time, with quite a bit of tension and stress, along with some joy and some sense of accomplishment. I’m not sure what kind of whole these various pieces create, but it seemed worth the trouble to find out. Reading the collection over now, I do see a coherent perspective, an application of Jesus’s message of God’s love for all people to this one particular set of issues. Let me begin, with this Introduction, by giving an account of how I came to add voice to the struggle.

A culture of fear

I began my twenty years as a faculty member at Eastern Mennonite University in the fall of 1996. From the beginning I felt some tension. I did want very much to get along with the institution and willingly expected to work within the confines of stated expectations for faculty members (for example, during those early months I willingly refrained from drinking any alcoholic beverages, as per the Community Lifestyle Commitment document I signed).

On the other hand, I have always seen my deepest accountability to be to the gospel message. By 1996, I had come to some solid conclusions regarding the tensions swirling in Mennonite communities over how the churches and broader structures should respond to their gay and lesbian members. I did not come to EMU with the intent to lead a reform movement on campus or in the wider denomination, but I was ready to play a role if opportunities arose—and I expected they would; it seemed that the movement of history was going to require that. Continue reading “Introduction to Mennonites and “Homosexuality”: The Struggle to Become a Welcoming Church“→

Some of the chapters focus on biblical interpretation, some on the history of Mennonite responses to these issues, and some on responding to many of the writings Christians have produced during these years.

The book both provides a historical perspective on these challenging years for Mennonites and a coherent biblical and theological argument in favor of inclusion.

Here is a link to the book’s website that includes information on purchasing the book. It is now available as a paperback online from Amazon ($20) and Barnes and Noble ($15.58) and as an e-book on Amazon Kindle ($8). It may also be purchased directly from the author ($10 in person and $15 postpaid through the mail).

We are in the middle of what seems certain to be one of the worst presidential campaigns in United States’ history. We have the two candidates with the highest negativity ratings in the history of measuring that indicator.

Trump as disaster

And the thing is, the negative ratings for Donald Trump are not nearly as high as they should be. In this blog post, I take it for granted that Trump is a terrible person, remarkably unsuited to be president of the USA. He’s dishonest, narcissistic, mean-spirited, bigoted, ignorant, irreverent, thin-skinned, controlling, sexist, racist, and surrounded by yay-sayers. A disaster in every way; a world-class con-man in the words of Matt Taibbi.

Something else I take for granted in this post is that Hillary Clinton’s negative ratings are too high. She’s not nearly as bad as her public image would imply—at least in the sense that she has been for years and continues to be unfairly vilified, disrespected, slandered, and the like in large part due to her being a woman. At the least, she is vilified often for the wrong reasons.

So, Trump is a disaster who shouldn’t be the candidate of a major political party and as his party’s candidate should not be nearly as close to leading the race as he is. And Clinton is unfairly discriminated against because she is a woman.

And yet, the way the campaign seems to be unfolding is quite troubling for other reasons. As awful as Trump is, he is not the reincarnation of Hitler. There is debate among “experts” whether the invocation of Hitler in relation to Trump violates Godwin’s Law (the idea that internet debates, if they go on long enough, tend to end with references to one’s opponent being like Hitler—a move that in some settings leads to a declaration that in invoking Hitler, one loses the debate).

Regardless, one could argue that the Trump-is-like-Hitler references exaggerate both Trump’s power and his darkness. Trump actually differs from Hitler in crucial ways—maybe most significantly in having nothing even remotely like Hitler’s Nazi Party to implement his inhumane ideology, not to mention also having nothing even remotely like Hitler’s coherent, long-standing, and well-articulated ideology.